A day in the life.....

My mundane life, and the bizarre things that happen (or don't)

Monday, September 01, 2003

Another night at Fitzies.......

Nancy got back yesterday. She rang me, to tell me that Army Boy had called her on Sunday night, and left a strange message on her voice mail, and had obviously been cut off before he had got chance to say much. She had, however, got the number of the phone that had called, and it was a hotel in New York. I told her to ring it, he might just still be there, but she went all coy. And asked me to ring him. Giggling like little school children (and acting like it too) she gives me the number, and his name, and I ring up. Ask if there is a Mr Christian Army-boy staying. As they put me through to his room, I hang up! How ridiculous is that? LOL. Anyway, I ring Nancy back, tell her he is there and she needs to get her arse in gear and ring him. She rings me back, laughing, and says "Fitzies, we leave at 9".

So, off I trot again. And I have finished my antibiotics, so alcohol is on the cards.

All the way there, Nancy is talking about the other man in her life, Marriott Man. She saw him again last week while she was in Boston. For the third time. I am a little shocked at how much she wants a boyfriend. She has seen this bloke only 3 times - and they have chatted on the phone, and exchanged emails, but they have still only met 3 times. And she is now talking 'strategies' for turning him from a series of one-night stands into boyfriend. I am trying to tell her to just let it play as it will. This bloke lives miles away in Ohio. She has only met him 3 times. Strategies, for fuck sake!!! But then, give her her due, we are off to a pub so she can meet another bloke!

We get to the bar, and Nancy hangs back - "You go in first, in case I don't recognise him". Like I can see - I have my glasses on as my contact lenses are playing me up, and I can't see for toffee! I go in, and Roger is working the bar on his own. "Hi girls - hey Christian is down there". The other end of the bar seemed pretty busy, so I ask him to send him down to us. Christian comes down, and he really is as cute as I remember, such a sweety. He kisses both Nancy and I, but he really only has eyes for Nancy. Bless. And I am feeling distinctly green and hairy!

Christian says he needs a fag, and Nancy agrees to go with him. Right. Ok. I really get the hint. 10 minutes. I sit there and finish my drink. Order another one, and then up and go to the end of the bar to socialise with the Stoke Boys. I knew I was going to have to, I didn't expect it to happen quite so quickly.

Lot of pseudo-Stoke Boys in there last night. Cockney wankers basically. And two very drunken Long Island girls, who were particularly funny, especially when one of them starts telling me how cute all the English boys are. I look around me. Look back at her. "Well, some of them are, you're right, but none of them drink here". What was especially funny is that I think she fancied Timmy. Timmy???? Actually, when he isn't rolling his eyes back in his head, and only communicating via grunts he can actually be quite witty and entertaining. It just doesn't last long.

Will is asking when I leave, and wants to know when he can come round with his U-Haul, to take away all my stuff. I laugh - like he is going to need a bloody van. Then he starts on how he basically wants everything electrical, especially my DVD player. What is it with people - I don't have a DVD player, yet everyone I speak to wants it. He got very upset when I told him (again, this bloke has the memory of a goldfish) that my friend Eric has first refusal. I say he can have my little 5 inch black and white, but he wasn't suitably impressed.

At this point, Nancy arrives back - she has been gone 'for a smoke' for almost an hour. But then panic strikes.

"Have you got my purse?"

"You had it with you?"

"No, I left it in here."

"It wasn't on the bar, else I would have brought it up here with me."

"No, I left it hung on the back of my chair, under my jacket."

Oh. Right. While I do feel some guilt, I feel a little vindicated now. It is hardly my fault if she had hidden it, and I didn't know it was there, let alone where it was. And she had been gone for almost an hour - she couldn't expect me to be sat in the same place like little Anni No-mates. Still, not nice. Someone had stolen her bag. Apparently, the only reason she came back in was she saw someone walking by with a bag that looked like hers. She goes off to the pub over the road, where she thinks the person she saw with a similar bag went. At this point, this bloke starts waving at me, and calls me over. One of those steroid, muscle bound fuckwit American types. He starts chatting to me - there was a plethora of people in the bar last night who seemed obsessed with my hair, very strange - but his main topic of conversation was himself, and how he was from the Mid-west, not the east coast, and how much better it was there.

Nancy and Christian come back, and, for some reason, this nob-head starts talking to Christian about the Iraq war. Whoops. Christian is in the US Army, The first time we met him he had just come back from Iraq. This time he was just back from Liberia. On Saturday, he goes back to Iraq. No matter what your opinions, you know he is going to have stronger ones than you. Well, I know that. Nob-head didn't know it. Of course not. He was a nob-head. I catch Roger's eye over nob-heads head - he is obviously of the same opinion, as I make the 'nob-head' sign, finger to forehead..... I intervene between the two boys, to save poor Christian from this stupid blokes ranting. Then, after giving Nancy half my cash, so she at least has some in her pocket (she's lost $50, her credit cards, and her apartment key - nightmare) I go back to the Stoke boys and leave Nancy and her fancy man. An hour later, she comes to say she is leaving..... aww, bless.

I stay a little while longer. I try to persuade Timmy to go and hit the nob-head - at some point in the night, as he came back from the loo he stopped to talk to me, to basically abuse me. "You're so full of shit, it's unbelievable." Open mouthed astonishment. Why am I on the end of this rant? "You think you can do anything with your English accent....." (ok, true to some extent, I do use it when I can, but, but.....) "and I have seen you with your flirty eyes...." (flirty eyes? with you? but you are a nob-head?) "and I think you are just full of shit". Oh god. Help me. This guy is a nutter. Do I return the argument, and point out that he was the one who started talking to me, I really do not fancy him (as if) and actually he is a complete and utter nob-head. Or do I just smile politely, and leave to go to the loo. This guy is a fucking nut-case - I sort of think this is the sort of thing serial killers do. He was seriously deluded. Anyway, Timmy was not going to hit him "He's bigger than me." Can't argue with that, but hey, I am right behind you, cheering you on.